


The Art of Gardening

by KrisLaughs



Category: Being Human, Being Human (North America), Being Human (US/Canada)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-13
Updated: 2011-04-13
Packaged: 2017-10-18 00:25:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/182953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrisLaughs/pseuds/KrisLaughs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Josh is vegetables, in so many ways. (Post-coital pillow talk)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Gardening

Josh rests, weightless and almost pleasantly sore, savoring these mornings when they don’t have to be at the hospital, don’t have to be anywhere at all, just two people (monsters) removed from time. Aidan’s fingers open and close, tracing fine lines across his chest. He flexes his arm and pulls Josh in closer, skin warm from their morning… workout.

Aidan’s breath is cool against the back of his neck. “That was—“ he starts.

“Yeah,” Josh agrees, adjusting his legs and flexing his toes.

Aidan props himself up on an elbow, staring—not uncomfortably—at the fluttering pulse at Josh’s neck. Josh swallows, “You’re not going to—“

“No.” Aidan smiles, brown-eyed and toothy. No fangs. “I’m just.. fascinated,” he says, and Josh hesitates to ask what’s so fascinating about his jugular. “For the first time in a very long time,” Aidan explains, and Josh wonders (not for the first time) whether vampires can read minds. Aidan’s gaze, however, is far away and lost in time. “I dunno, maybe even since I was human, this has nothing to do with blood.” He waves a hand lightly over Josh’s skin. His spent cock starts to throb again as if on command.

“But could you?” Josh asks. “Feed on me?” He finds himself curious now, more than afraid.

“I guess. To survive.” Aidan pulls a face. “It’d be like when you were little and your mom told you to eat your vegetables.” He lies back down, fitting himself neatly into the hollows of Josh’s body

“Oh great, I’m brussel sprouts.” Josh flares his nostrils. “I don’t know whether to be offended or relieved.”

“More like lima beans,” Aidan says, but he’s laughing softly, a deep rumble Josh feels as much as he hears, vibrating against the small of his back.

Josh rolls over, surprised at the effort it takes. Aidan’s arm is wedged under him in the never-comfortable position, but he doesn’t seem to particularly care. This soon before the full moon, Josh can smell—everything. Mostly, he’s learned to ignore the cacophony of scent, but for the moment he lets it all in, sex and old blood, the detergent he uses on their sheets, dirt, the faint sheen of Aidan’s sweat, and the dumpster outside the bedroom window. But mostly Aidan.

“Lima beans?” he asks, but then his words are lost to soft moans as Aidan’s tongue searches the point where his collar bone meets his neck, works its way in lazy circles towards his jaw. Suddenly he doesn’t care if he’s radishes or frozen peas, so long as it means more of this.

“Mmmm, not exactly,” Aidan murmurs into Josh’s skin. He reaches down to play with Josh’s balls, touching him in that spot that _shit_ , Josh ‘s nails dig into Aidan’s back before he realizes what he’s doing, drawing his fingers across Aidan’s skin, marking him.

A growl rises in his throat, but instead of pulling away, Aidan presses into it, coaxing out more. Josh’s toes start to curl (again) and _hell_ , he’s fighting for every ounce of control. “So what,” he exhales, wraps himself in sarcasm to keep from coming on the spot. “I taste like vegetables and smell like a dog?”

Aidan releases his earlobe. “More like the woods after a heavy rain.”

Josh's mouth finds Aidan's lips, pulls on them, shuts him up momentarily.

“Like Spanish moss,” Aidan breathes into him. Josh runs his tongue along sharp teeth, fills his lungs with Aidan’s breath, Aidan’s scent. “Yeah okay,” he admits, and josh can feel his mouth curve into a soft smile, “little like a dog.”


End file.
